Familiar Cranks

Ah, the wushu pains are back. My ball and socket joints are threatening to tear off as Wang Laoshi made us do every single move 6-8 rounds, including the ever-popular squat punch and horse stance's inch forward. In comparison to those old bones, the muscles are doing quite well, with the slight exception of my arms, which feel as if they'd been boiled and laid to dry in the quick sun.

I thought I was going to spend the day reading about rebels and robber culture, but it looks like we're speeding to Chinatown in the city for some medicine and calligraphy supplies instead before delving into a minor feast at a favorite unassuming Chiyanees eatery in Sunset.

Rather curious about who "pm" was in the last comment, would it be "jpm"?